Breaking
by Corinth
Summary: Oneshot. Cragen's POV as he struggles with wanting to drink after a particularly tough case and acting on his love for Alex, only to be rejected. Please R and R!


I own nothing.

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_The smell of vodka permeates the room to the point that I can hardly think. My brain is fuzzy, but even the fume-induced stupor doesn't stop the pain. You don't need to be able to think to feel. I'm breaking. God, this pain…not again._

_I haven't felt like this in a long time. I hoped never again to entertain the thought of swallowing my gun._

_Oh, **God**._

It had been another particularly tough case, and all that got me through was the knowledge that I had people to help me. Elliot, Liv, Fin, John, Alex. Especially Alex. Every time I feel like I can't take it anymore, can't listen to another perp brag about how he brutalized someone, I just think about her. How much she cares, how hard she works, what a good person she is.

Alex was the first woman since Marge to literally take my breath away. I would happily have drowned in her blue eyes and the scent of her hair is the only intoxication I allow myself anymore. I find myself watching her hands, amazed at how graceful she is. I dream of her, and then I come to work and realize that my dreams are nothing on reality.

And it is completely wrong of me. I'm old enough to be her father...I shouldn't have these thoughts about her. I shouldn't be in love with her. But I can't help it. I can't control my feelings.

I can't control myself. Damn you, you old bastard. Damn you to hell.

She came into my office at the end of the day. I was the only one left, going over some papers from the case she is going to fight tomorrow. I sighed, my face in my hands, feeling the familiar burn in my chest and throat that means I'm about to lose it.

"God, Alex," I muttered softly, seeing her in my mind and feeling my heart uplift, if only slightly. Even she didn't have the power to make the images of the tortured and murdered kids leave my head, but she helped.

"Yeah, Don?"

My eyes snapped to my doorway. Alex was leaning against the frame, tapping her glasses slowly on the palm of her hand. She did that whenever she was nervous, and I knew the case had her as worked up as me. I tried to think of an explanation for why I had just said her name when I had no idea she was even in the precinct, but I decided that, for all she knew, I had been aware of her presence.

I stared into her eyes. "I just…this was a tough one."

She straightened up and came over to me, sitting on the edge of my desk facing me. "Yes, it was." She sighed. "I want to murder him in court."

I smiled, my heartbeat becoming more rapid when she smiled back. I felt like a stupid hormonal teenager. "I want you to, too."

We lapsed into silence, but it wasn't at all awkward. I didn't realize that there were tears in my eyes until I blinked and felt them rolling down my face.

"Don, are you alright?"

I closed my eyes, not bothering to dry my cheeks. "As alright as any of us ever are, I guess."

I heard a tiny click as Alex set her glasses on my desk, and then I felt her fingers running up and down my arm. "I'm sorry."

I was dizzy from her touch. My head was screaming at me that it was completely innocent, that she meant nothing by it, but my heart was desperate, and in its desperation it was louder than my head.

I opened my eyes and kissed her.

Her fingers went slack on my arm, and her lips were frozen against mine. I felt her stiffen, and I pulled back.

She was staring at me, her expression hard to read. But even though I didn't know exactly what she was thinking, I knew it wasn't, "Thank God, he finally did what I've wanted for so long."

I dropped my eyes to the floor, unable to breathe. "I'm so sorry, Alex."

There was no frostiness in her voice when she replied, which hurt me more. I wish she would have been angry. I wish she would have given me a reason to be mad at her, even though I deserved any anger she directed at me for what I did. I needed a reason not to love her, but in her kindness and grace I only fell deeper, harder…more in love with her. "Don't be…_I'm_ sorry. It's not you, Don, it's just…I just can't…."

I shook my head. "I know. _I know_. I'm sorry."

She stood up and I felt her eyes still on me, though I couldn't meet them. "Are you…will you be ok?"

I nodded at the floor. "I'm fine." I finally had the balls to look at her. "Good luck tomorrow, Counselor." My pathetic attempt at nonchalance, at reaffirming our relationship as professional and nothing more…God, I hate myself. When did I turn into such a pathetic excuse for a man?

"Thank you." She went to the door, turning back when she reached it. "Don?"

I shut my eyes against the pain of hearing her say my name, without hate, without fear of the man who had just thrown himself at her….Alex, why do you have to be so amazing? So completely perfect?

"Good night."

"Good night," she replied softly, walking out into the dark bullpen. I listened to her heels clicking on the floor until the sound of the door opening and closing interrupted. She was gone.

I sat there, breathing in the quickly vanishing smell of her perfume, until I couldn't bear it another second.

_I poured a glass of vodka and sat staring at it for close to an hour. Tempting myself. Telling myself that if I would only drink it, and many others like it, all the pain would leave. I wouldn't have to think. I wouldn't have to feel. I wouldn't have to face myself._

_I would be a worse man than I already was._

_I hurled the bottle against the wall, the sound of the glass shattering piercing my eardrums. Sweeping the shot glass onto the floor, I collapsed into a chair, staring at the dark spot on the wall. I could hear drops of the stuff hitting the floor, landing on the shattered glass, mocking me. Some new form of Chinese water torture…but worse. Far worse._

_The dripping has finally stopped, and the silence is more than I can take. I idly twirl the barrel of my off-duty piece, staring at the wall until my eyes burn. Just thinking. Just dying._


End file.
